


Worth It

by twinsarein



Category: DCU
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-17
Updated: 2010-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:24:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinsarein/pseuds/twinsarein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce checks on an alarm going off because of something said at Superman’s Fortress.  He sees and hears more than he expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth It

Bruce moves around the Batcave, getting his suit put away, and cleaning up a few odds and ends. He’s down to his boxers, but he’s used to the chill and he’s heading up to bed soon, so he doesn’t worry about it.

It had been a quiet night in Gotham, and he’s feeling good - no injuries, aches aren’t any worse than usual, his newest scar isn’t pulling or itching too much, and the snack Alfred had left for him had really hit the spot.

Shutting down a few nonessential pieces of computer equipment is the last thing he has to do before going to get a few hours sleep. Reaching for a switch, his head turns swiftly and his hand drops at an alarm from across the room.

Swiftly, he crosses to the monitor it’s coming from and sits down. Looking at the board, he sees the alarm is from the one he’d expected. The Arctic. Some of the works he’s most proudest of, was getting the audio and video bugs into Superman’s Fortress undetected.

As much as he admires the man, Bruce has always felt that someone has to watch him, to make sure that he stays on the side of right and doesn’t stray from it or be manipulated into leaving it.

He has it set up so that certain words trigger the alarm. Kill and its variations and synonyms head the list and after many other words and phrases, his names rounds it out. Bruce doesn’t feel it’s egotistical to name himself Superman’s biggest threat if he turns from the world’s biggest Boy Scout into the world’s largest danger.

Except for the bugs in the Fortress, Clark knows the measures that Bruce has taken to contain him, if it becomes necessary. Although, he doesn’t know them all. That would defeat the purpose.

So far, all of the alarms from the Fortress have been false ones, but Bruce still doesn’t consider it a waste. He’d rather deal with a thousand false alarms, than miss the possible one time it’s real.

Turning on the monitor, the trigger words flash across it first. He isn’t surprised to see his own name - Clark saying his name has been responsible for most of the false alarms. They are friends after all, and co-workers at The Justice League.

The second word is a surprise. Kill. That one hasn’t come up too often, but it has happened - usually when Clark is protesting the need to kill something. To see the two together, though, that hasn’t happened before.

Flipping on another monitor to get what’s happening in real time, Bruce rewinds the feed on the first one so he can get the words in context. He doesn’t want to react impulsively, after all. That’s Superman’s habit, not his.

Hitting the play button, Bruce is surprised to see Superman standing in the middle of his Fortress, head in his hands. “Bruce, you’re killing me,” comes over the monitor, and Bruce has the answer to the reason for another false alarm. What he doesn’t have is an answer for Superman’s behavior, his words, or why they were said with such despair and...he can hardly credit it...want.

Hoping for an explanation of it all, Bruce turns to look at the real-time monitor. He freezes at the image that fills the screen. Costume off, Clark is in his room in the Fortress, lying on his bed, completely nude. Bruce’s eyes trail over the sculpted body splayed over the sheets, and stop at the hand wrapped around a mouth-watering erection.

Clark cries out and Bruce can see him squeeze his cock to prevent himself from coming. Bruce’s name is moaned out repeatedly as the Man of Steel throws his head back and starts stroking again.

Shuddering in desire at hearing that arousal-laced voice, Bruce hardens in his boxers. Clenching his teeth to resist touching himself, he has to reach over and slap off the alarm again, and then hits another button to disable it for a while.

When he looks up at the monitor again, Clark is still masturbating. Only now, the bastard has slowed down. Clark’s hand is moving at a snail’s pace, even though Bruce can see bead after bead of precome welling up and sliding down the wide head.

Closing his eyes, Bruce’s determination to not watch doesn’t extend to turning the second monitor off. It also doesn’t last long. His eyes snap open as that tempting, full mouth moans his name again. One of Bruce’s fingers, unbidden, slides down the hard bulge hidden by his boxers.

Bruce’s own moan echos around the Batcave. He and Clark have been dancing around each other for ages, but neither has done anything about it, yet. Also, Bruce has done his best to not let his feelings for his fellow hero show at all.

A relationship with Clark would...it wouldn’t be a good idea. If Clark dies or is killed first, or if Bruce someday has to kill a Superman gone wrong himself... Losing his objectivity about the Man of Steel is definitely not a good idea.

However, watching the big body sprawled in all its glory across that bed, and seeing Clark’s features contort in pleasure, Bruce isn’t sure he has any objectivity left anyway. The sight is certainly too much, even for Bruce’s self-control.

Reaching into his boxers, Bruce shudders as he grasps his own hard cock and pulls it out. His eyes start to close as his hand wraps around his hot flesh, but he forces them to stay open just a little. Watching the monitor, Bruce matches his pace to Clark’s.

When Clark starts to speed up again, so does Bruce. With the increased speed, Bruce can hear the slick sounds of flesh on flesh with the way eased by lube. The thought of Clark Kent, of Superman, having lube pushes Bruce closer to his edge.

Bruce can tell that Clark’s getting close because he starts whining high in his throat and writhing on the bed. Bruce doesn’t think he’s even seen or heard anything more arousing than the strongest man alive coming unraveled. At least, not until Clark starts moaning Bruce’s name over and over, and then floats off the bed.

The sight of Clark defying the laws of gravity due to the pleasure he derives in thinking of Bruce, makes Bruce draw in a quick breath. He manages to bite back the more gushing things wanting to come out, but he can’t stop himself from thinking them. Things such as, ‘You beautiful alien,‘ and ‘Magnificent.’

Feeling his own pinnacle approaching at the sight of Clark’s pleasure, Bruce loses his control just briefly, and a quietly moaned, “Oh god, Clark,” escapes.

In the next second, Clark goes rigid. Groaning out Bruce’s name again, he starts jerking in midair and his release splatters against his own skin as well as the bed below.

Wishing that he had the ability to enjoy the other three senses during Clark’s orgasm, not just sight and sound, Bruce can’t hold himself back any longer. His back arches in the chair and his own release pulses out onto his stomach and fist.

Slumping forward as his orgasm wanes, Bruce takes a few deep breaths to bring himself back under control. Grabbing a cloth to clean his hand, he holds the last breath for a count of ten, and then slowly exhales. Straightening up, he opens his eyes and immediately starts cursing. Clark is gone from the monitor.

Before he has time to notice more than that, he’s being lifted into the air and flown backwards until his back hits a cave wall. Then, a face is pressed into his neck and shuddering breaths are heating his skin.

“Clark?” Bruce brings his arms up and lays them on the blue-clad, broad shoulders trembling against him.

“I...want that and so much more with you, Bruce. Not thousands of miles apart. Please, let us have it. Please.”

“Clark...” Bruce breaks off as Clark raises his head from against Bruce’s neck for the first time since arriving. Bruce takes one look at the hope-filled face that’s still showing signs of his bout with pleasure, as well as an emotion that Bruce isn’t prepared to name yet, and all of his reasons for not being together die unsaid.

He knows he’s been quiet too long, when Clark starts to bite his lip and his eyes change from hopeful to sad. His hold on Bruce begins to loosen. For once, Bruce acts on instinct, and raises his legs to wrap them around Clark’s waist.

Freezing in the act of lowering Bruce, Clark looks down at where Bruce’s legs connect them, and then looks up, his expression back to hopeful with a glimmer of more tilting the corners of his mouth up.

Not wanting to resist those lips anymore, Bruce threads his hands into Clark’s hair and gently brings their mouths together. Licking along the full lips until they part for him on a shaky breath, Bruce can feel Clark’s strong body shudder all over as their tongues meet for the first time.

Pressing in deeper, Bruce nibbles, sucks, and licks every inch of Clark’s mouth that he can reach. He could get drunk on the warm pleasure he’s getting from just a kiss. Clark’s knees buckle, taking them both to the floor, but never letting their mouths part. Bruce knows that he’s never experienced a better aphrodisiac than the knowledge of the effect he’s having on the man whose lap he’s now straddling.

Pulling back slowly, Bruce leans his forehead against Clark’s. “Answer enough for you?”

Hands tightening on his waist almost painfully, Clark takes a gulping breath. “Yes. That’ll do. God, Bruce, you have no idea how long...how much...I’ve wanted this. You never gave the slightest hint that you’d be interested.”

“I’m assuming you heard what I was doing, heard me call your name, and that’s what precipitated your mad dash from the Arctic.”

He’d phrased it as a statement, but Clark answered it anyway. “I did hear you, yes. Actually, though, I saw you first...”

Clark breaks off at Bruce’s furious look, and holds up a placating hand before continuing. “I wasn’t spying; I swear. I just...I knew it was time for you to be getting back from patrol, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. I wasn’t expecting to see you...to see so much skin. You’re never that uncovered, and you looked...you look...”

Clark stops again, this time to clear his throat, but Bruce can also feel the cock under his ass swell a little. Reaching up, Bruce rubs a thumb over Clark’s lips, and has to bite back a moan when he sucks it into his mouth and scrapes his teeth over the sensitive pad.

Yes, Bruce knows that his objectivity is definitely shot all to hell. As he pushes Clark down to the cold, stone floor, though, he realizes that what he’s holding in his hands right now, is worth whatever trouble comes their way.﻿


End file.
